Shearing the Fake Heart
by Intoxicated Gnu
Summary: Ren's beaten down and lacking the inspiration he needs to finish his song lyrics and not get expelled. He reminisces in the fields, wondering how ever he will find the comforting touch he'd never had. Contains some hints of Oedipus and sheep lovin'. My special take on Ren's episode.


Saotome Academy had an interesting location. It had once been a prison, its strange location chosen due to popular psychology at the time asserting that prisoners would be well-behaved around pretty nature to keep their mood up. The remote area ensured that escape was no easy task, along with the high security. Over time, budget cuts made the prison harder to run and eventually, they could no longer afford to have food supplies delivered. Thus, it was shut down.

There was a media frenzy the day the hot pop star, Shining Saotome, purchased the old prison. It was fairly worn down by then and even with city growth, it was still well out of the way of civilization. Nobody speculated that the man would create a school in such a baffling location, leaving the vast greenery untouched.

Ren didn't care for most of the place. The architecture was the type only the rich could stomach. It reminded him of home. There were two places he liked. On the roof, everyone was small and insignificant and only he and his saxophone were real. Then there was the pasture. It wasn't the scenery he loved—he was the wrong type of romantic for that. It was the wildlife, the farm animals.

Sheep reminded him of his mother. He had very few memories and knew little of his mother. However much his father had tried to hide his mother's existence, what he hadn't taken was the shirt from poor little Ren's back. Little Ren had a favorite shirt: a wool sweater. It was a gift from his mom, so no matter how horrible and uncomfortable it was, he had to wear it. He still wore wool to that day, just to think of her. It was only fair someone did.

It was too hot to consider any of that. His skin was probably thankful for it. Ren got the feeling that he had a bit of an allergy. He knew wool was supposed to itch, but his skin had the sort of reaction that warranted the use of ointments. He had to continue wearing long sleeved shirts weeks after, knowing he would scare people who saw his raw, scabbed skin. It was worth it to him, though, to feel the embrace of the mother he'd never really had.

On the thought of sheep, Ren pursed his lips, staring at the direction the girl had taken off. He hadn't thought she was serious about finding his lyrics. It was impressive she'd found as much as she had. In his surprise, he hadn't the heart to tell her that they weren't serious lyrics, only meant to piss off Ryuuga by using every technique he'd advised (insisted) they didn't. The girl had run off before he'd figured out what to tell her, so he just sighed and stared back into the fields, shoving the taped together notebook paper into his pocket for later disposal.

He hoped she didn't find the rest of it, or the both of them could be embarrassed.

Alas, Ren knew not what he could write as a serious song. He wasn't meant for poetry; he just wanted to woo the ladies. His brother understood him and thought that the school would be a good chance to get Ren lots of ladies while promoting the group, but Ren wasn't used to that kind of work and didn't expect to last much longer there. Not when Ryuga was riding his ass to be more serious, anyway.

Ren suspected there was another reason his brother had bullied him into going to idol school. He'd always had more than a little bit of an obsession with their mother. He grew his hair out to look like hers. He'd already inherited her looks plenty. It was probably was his father hated him so much. He'd had a few imaginary friends as a child, though his family thought there was only one, since they all bore the name 'Renge'. He collected memorabilia from her idol days, in a special trunk which only he had the key to. The more his father had tried to erase her, the more he was consumed by the desire to resurrect her existence. Ren knew the name for that. He blamed the old man for his unrelenting mother complex (he didn't even want to think of the 'Oedipus' one, or he might actually want to kill the poor bastard, and fate had taken care of that for him).

Ren pulled the hair out of his face, sad eyes lost in the clear sky. He didn't have his chest of treasures to give him inspiration anymore. He'd left it back at home, thinking it much too precious to take to an unstable place like that. He didn't need that grumpy roommate of his getting dirt on him either. He regretted it, though, having to sleep in a comfortable, but empty bed. Never able to listen to her voice as he daydreamt. Never able to have an example so that the hairdressers cut his hair just right. It was tragic.

His head rose in shock as he heard a crunch. Either the girl was back or someone else had come to chew him out, perhaps to tell him to go home, which he wanted nothing more than at that point. Yet as he looked around, not a person was in sight. Instead, he found a big puffball walking towards him. Ren gaped, holding out a hand to welcome it. He was a man of little patience and found that animals rarely liked him more than he liked them. That this sheep was drawn to him… was he so easy to read that a sheep understood him?

No, it wasn't that he was easy to read, but that this sheep probably understood him better than most people did. There were few who could relate to his problems. He didn't tell people about them and so, they never knew what was wrong with him, when there was something wrong with him. But maybe, if even a little sheep could understand, then others could too.

Ren felt the magic of friendship for the first time. As the sheep neared close enough to touch, he found himself weirdly subconscious, his face flushing as he reached out with shaky fingertips. The sheep seemed to appreciate his touch, making a cute little squealing 'maa' as he stroked its floppy ear. "Good girl," he felt obligated to tell it, and assume. "Come here." He spoke softly, so as not to scare the delicate creature and moved to pet its body. It was soft, but a little sticky and ragged, his hair getting caught in its wool. He almost felt like he was caressing his own soul, even as fire flashed through his fingers and broke through his skin.

And just like that, he felt his mother's touch, the comfort flowing into his blood like the scent of roses. "Maybe I can do this," he said in a murmur, unsure if he was informing himself or the sheep. "No, I can. All I needed was a little inspiration." He continued to stroke the sheep, thinking of how he could put together his song and save his grade and reputation.

Tomochika dug through the blades of grass on her hands and knees. She felt silly. "Are you sure it was here?" she panted, wondering how she'd gotten herself into such a mess.  
"It was here!" Haruka insisted with her lemon jelly eyes as she jumped on the drainpipe to take a look behind some vines.  
Shou leaned against a tree, catching his breath after an hour of the mad rush to find tiny strips of paper that he was sure would never be found. Sure, he didn't hate the guy, but why was he going through all that effort to help him? _Solve your own problems, JInguuji_, Shou thought, turning to leave before feedback came through the speakers.

Ren clicked his tongue, summoning the attention of the masses the same way he would summon a butler. He made his speech, just so they would know how amazing his song was going to be. After all, it was a tribute to his mother, so it had to be the best thing he'd ever done in his life. He called out to his 'Little Lamb', never explaining the double meaning in who he was referring to and snapped his fingers with a new air of confidence. "It's show time!"

The students and teachers rushed to the sound of the saxophone, needing to see this bold performance of a simple school assignment. They stood on their tiptoes, waiting in anticipation for what the upcoming cue would lead to.

Ren opened his beautiful mouth, the visage of his mother spinning in his head to his perfect playing.  
"La la la la la la  
La la la la la la  
La la la la la la la la laa…"

Hyuuga's mouth dropped open. He had almost thought that the kid was being serious. Never again would he expect anything from someone who broke into the announcement room.  
"That kid," he growled, his fist curling to keep from violence. "He's mocking me."  
"No." Masato stared at his roommate with cold, analyzing eyes. "He isn't. He's… singing from the heart."  
Hyuuga wondered how no one else was bothered by such a display of disrespect. Ringo and Masato were smiling while others still danced like they had no control of their limbs. "Those aren't lyrics. He's expelled."  
Masato turned to him once more with an instantly serious expression. "You can't. He finished his assignment. You never specified that it had to use more than one word."  
Hyuuga wondered why the kid was trying so hard. "It should be obvious. Besides, 'la' isn't a word."  
"You never specified that it could not be a word from French."  
Hyuuga was getting irritated. Maybe he'd give some credit to the little smart ass for figuring a way around it, but that was it. "Fine. From now on…" He walked away in disgust to lock himself away and formulate some new, _very_ specific rules.

"That was great!" Haruka said, beaming. "But what happened to your lyrics from before?"  
Ren smirked and began to put away his saxophone. "I got a little… inspiration."  
Shou was a little pissed at being made to look for lyrics the guy didn't even use, but he supposed things had turned out well enough. However, without Ren holding the saxophone, Shou saw something that disturbed him. "Woah, what happened to your chest?"  
"Hm?" Ren slid down the wall, his efforts to bear the pain wearing him out. He looked down at the skin peeking through his open shirt, never failing to smile. "Nothing," he sighed. "Just a little bit of inspiration."


End file.
